


Oh-So-Deliciously Wrong

by yoohoopuddin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, top!jim, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoohoopuddin/pseuds/yoohoopuddin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you saw such a pair; a slither of dark navy and indigo tossed aside the hunch of strained, rippling muscle - your first thought, your initial conclusion, would be that the little stick of a man; slight and hollow, was the one splayed across the mattress; wrists pinned and arse swung high in the musky air. You’d be wrong. Oh-so-deliciously wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh-So-Deliciously Wrong

If you saw such a pair; a slither of dark navy and indigo tossed aside the hunch of strained, rippling muscle - your first thought, your initial conclusion, would be that the little stick of a man; slight and hollow, was the one splayed across the mattress; wrists pinned and arse swung high in the musky air. You’d be wrong. Oh-so-deliciously wrong. 

For that body; bustling, sculptured with mastered flesh, the very picture of strong, power - can just as easily be paralyzed of all control.

Jim, James - as his lover moans - is looming, despite his lithe stature, over Sebastian, threatening little bites of whispers lingering upon his lips. He bends, strains the harsh tendons of his neck, and licks; laps at the sheen of sweat glimmering upon the man’s sun-kissed skin. Salty and slick, his swirling tongue prods at the groove of his spine, caressing the steep slope of bone. It’s distracting - so, that when fingers, clasped together taught, shove into his open hole - Sebastian all but suppresses a yelp. Jim’s working him; brushing that bundle of nerves with his ever-teasing fleets; cooing as he rocks in deeper with each thrust. 

It’s not much longer before it’s not stiff fingers but a hard, leaking cock that smears pre-come in its trail. Sebastian writhes; hips bucking and chest heaving as Jim propels himself forward; ramming, stabbing; ashen, flushed skin slapping. Jim’s mouth falls ajar; wide and gasping, a gutter of a groan scraping at the pinks of his throat. Sebastian’s screams are muffled, soaked up by the itching fluff of the pillows that claw at his gums. 

Jim is power; Jim is control. As he winches himself out; then roars back. Wide eyes; fluttering eyelashes, thick and heavy against his blemishing rubies and chalks. A sea of rusted copper is swarmed by the dilation of pupils and sharp nails gnaw at a grime-drenched tan. 

Teeth peel; and a bite, caustic - teeming with an acidic pulse - rips at Sebastian’s unearthed back. He hisses; seethes as the tart slit simmers through his choking veins.

They never do last long; not in their collision of dominance and submission; of pleads and demands; hair tugged from its aching roots, bruises crackling and tarnishing the jiggle of thighs and crooks of shoulders. It’s beautiful, really. Glorious.

Come clings to Sebastian’s cheeks; the grotty, dirty release of the man crumbling a-top him. When Jim collapses; rolls out - cock limp - to crash aside, the viscid, moist ooze slathers him still.

Jim murmurs over a tattered breath and Sebastian huffs a shredded crow of laughter; the pain stinging, burning at his sated limbs. 

If you saw such a pair; a slither of dark navy and indigo tossed aside the hunch of strained, rippling muscle - your first thought, your initial conclusion, would be that the little stick of a man; slight and hollow, was the one splayed across the mattress; wrists pinned and arse swung high in the musky air. You’d be wrong. Oh-so-deliciously wrong.


End file.
